Mozzie vs his Worst Nightmare
by marihun
Summary: Mozzie thought nothing worse could happen than Neal lying to him about the manifest. He was wrong...
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note:** After what happened in "On the Fence", I was so mad at Mozzie, I felt like strangling him. Since I couldn't really do that, this little fic was born instead. Originally I thought it would be a one-shot, but as always, it just started to grow and grow, so now I'm looking at two or three chapters. Apologies to any Mozzie-fans who might think I'm being too evil to him :DD

As always, huge thanks to my incredibly awesome betas, Aspen Starlight and AwesomeQueenoftheLab for all their help! :) If you like the story, don't forget to leave a review! ;)

**Timeframe:** Set right after the end of "On the Fence".

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><p><em><strong>Mozzie vs. his Worst Nightmare<strong>_

**Chapter 1**

Mozzie never thought this day would come. The day when Neal would keep secrets from him, and, even worse, would lie straight to his face. Especially about something as important as the manifest! How did they get to this point? How was this possible? It was truly one of Mozzie's worst nightmares - the thing he was most afraid of ever since Neal cut the deal with the Suit - that the Feds would tame him, cut his wings, and eventually turn Neal into one of them. Mozzie shuddered at the thought.

But that's exactly what seemed to have happened. Mozzie had waited for too long, just watching helplessly as his only friend slowly changed. Then when the treasure fell into their laps, it had seemed to be the perfect opportunity to turn Neal back from the "dark side." Mozzie had been completely sure that Neal would be grateful for this opportunity to just disappear and live the life he always wanted...

So how come Neal seemed less than thrilled every time they were talking about running away, and then lied to him about the manifest being at the Suit's, endangering their whole escape? It was almost as if he didn't want to... No. Mozzie didn't even want to finish that thought; it was way too terrifying.

He was so disappointed and hurt at the moment that he didn't even want to see Neal. However, he had no other choice. When Neal revealed that he did get the manifest from the Suit's safe after all, Mozzie had just stormed out of the room, wanting to get as far away from his traitorous friend as possible, making the mistake of not taking a look at the manifest. But since he needed to know which items were on it so he could start fencing the rest, he had no other choice but to go back and get the list itself. Or at least memorize it.

He waited until June's house went completely dark, and only then did he let himself in. He didn't want to run into anyone, and he really hoped he'd be able to avoid Neal as well. He just had to sneak into his room very carefully and take a peek on the manifest. Should be easy enough.

He made his way up the stairs to Neal's room with silent steps, but he paused when he noticed that Neal's door was slightly open. He fought back the urge to curse when he heard Neal's voice, followed by that of a woman. His first thought was that it must be Sara, but when he listened more closely, it sounded like it belonged to a more mature woman. Not June, though, as the voice was definitely unfamiliar. He quietly moved closer to the door and peered in through the crack, trying to look around. He finally spotted Neal sitting on his couch, hunched forward and talking to...

Mozzie did a double take. It looked like Neal was talking to his TV. Or, rather, to a redheaded, very stern-looking older woman on his TV screen, who was wearing a military uniform, of all things.

"You've let this situation get way out of control!" The woman on screen raised her voice in anger. "Do you have any idea how much time and effort it cost the CIA to establish a cover for you that would work just as well in the criminal underworld as in the FBI?"

"Yes, I do." Mozzie saw Neal lower his head.

"So, then, how is it possible that he not only stole the contents of the U-Boat, but also started to sell them? And you haven't done anything to stop him?"

"I'm sorry. I had no idea about what he was planning. But General-" Neal started to protest.

"No buts, Agent Larkin!" the woman cut him off. "As useful as he was before, Mr. ... what name is he using now?"

"Haversham," Neal answered, his voice almost a whisper.

"Mr. Haversham has become a liability. His recent actions appear to have compromised your cover and endangered the whole mission. He has to be stopped." She paused for a moment, before continuing in a less harsh manner, "I know it must be hard for you. You've established a connection with him... perhaps it's better if Colonel Casey takes care of it-"

"No," Neal cut in. "I'll- I'll take care of it."

"Are you sure?" the woman questioned.

"Yes." Neal stood up, and Mozzie caught the cold, determined look on his face.

"Fine," the woman said. A second later, the TV screen went black.

He couldn't believe what he had just heard. Who was this person, and what did he do to Neal? Because this man couldn't be the real Neal Caffrey! That wasn't- that wasn't the Neal he knew!

He wanted to move, but he felt like he was completely frozen in place. He saw the man he considered his only friend walk over to the bookshelf and take out a small case from behind the books, then set it down on the coffee table and open it. Mozzie was horrified as he recognized the contents of the case. As he watched the man take out a gun and a silencer and start to assemble them, Mozzie felt the world starting to spin around him, then everything went black. The last thing he felt was his knees hitting the floor.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note:** Sorry about not updating sooner, real life kinda got in the way again. I promise I'm gonna post the epilogue of this story a lot faster! :)

As always, huge thanks to my incredibly awesome betas, Aspen Starlight and AwesomeQueenoftheLab for all their help! :) If you like the story, don't forget to leave a review! ;)

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><p><strong><em>Chapter 2<em>**

The muffled noise Mozzie kept hearing slowly started to become clearer, and he finally realized someone was calling his name. It took him a few seconds to recognize the voice, but finally he could place it. It was him. The man who he used to think was Neal Caffrey. The man who took the order of killing him without blinking. But who was he really?

Because he really couldn't be Neal. Had the real Neal Caffrey been kidnapped and replaced by a Fed who had undergone plastic surgery to replace the real Neal? No, that was impossible, they couldn't have changed his voice to match Neal's so well Or maybe he was really Neal could they have done something to him while he was in prison? Brainwashed him and implanted another personality into him, like a sleeper assassin? Or...

Suddenly, the words of that woman - that general - about the CIA establishing a cover for Neal echoed in his ears. What did that mean? That Neal, or rather Agent Larkin or whatever his real name was, was always a Fed? Were all these years of their partnership nothing but a cover for him? That sounded like the worst possible version of the three.

At least he was still alive, that was a good sign. For some reason "Neal" didn't kill him while he was still unconscious. Perhaps he wanted to torture him first. Who knows where he took him? He could be in some sort of secret government bunker, or in an abandoned warehouse used for torturing...

He realized that he was lying on something that felt like a couch, and that neither his hands nor his legs were tied up. That gave him a little bit of hope that maybe, just maybe, he could get out of this place alive, wherever he was.

He decided to keep his eyes shut and tried not to move at all, hoping he could win a few minutes to come up with an escape plan while his captor still thought he was unconscious. However, he couldn't help but let out a shout when he suddenly felt an arm grab him.

"Relax, Mozzie, it's just me!" "Neal" said. "Are you OK?"

Mozzie took a moment to take in his surroundings. He was indeed lying on a couch, on Neal's couch to be exact, in his room. He finally brought himself to look at the man. If he didn't know better, he could've sworn "Neal" was eyeing him with concern.

"Go ahead, do it," he finally spoke, forcing himself to sound brave.

"What?" Neal asked, frowning.

"Kill me. Isn't that what your orders were? I don't know why you haven't done it yet, but go ahead. I'm not going to try to escape, or beg for my life. Just finish me off once and for all."

"Mozzie, are you crazy? What the hell are you talking about?" The look on "Neal's" face was now one of pure confusion. He played the innocent so well it infuriated Mozzie to a point that he felt he would explode from anger.

"You know very well, what I'm talking about, Agent Larkin!" he started to shout. "I heard everything! Your little conversation with that woman on the TV, her ordering you to kill me because I've become a liability-" He stopped abruptly when he saw the confusion on Neal's face turn into a disbelieving grin. "What? Don't you dare laugh at me!"

"Mozzie, seriously?" the other man exclaimed, giving him a chastising look. "You should go easier on the Chateau LeFranc. It's starting to give you nightmares."

"Now you're trying to make me believe that I'm drunk?" Mozzie was outraged by now. "That I've just hallucinated the whole thing? I know perfectly well what I've seen and heard here!"

"Okay, then, tell me. What exactly have you seen?" Neal asked, looking like he was trying harder and harder to hold back his laughter.

"As if you don't know!" Mozzie huffed. "Don't try to play the innocent!"

"Come on, Mozz..." Neal laughed. "I really don't know what you think you saw, but I can tell you what I really did. After you stormed out of here, I decided to go for a swim, to clear out my head and think of something to get Peter off our trail. I just got back a minute ago, and I found you here, sleeping like a log."

"Yeah, sure you did!" Mozzie grumbled, turning his eyes away from Neal. It was then that he caught sight of the coffee table. On top of it, the exact same place where he saw Neal put the case with the gun inside, was now an almost-empty bottle of Chateau LeFranc, and a used wine glass. He also noticed a black sports-bag on the floor next to the table. When he looked back up at Neal, he realized that the man was wearing a simple white t-shirt and sweatpants instead of the suit-and-tie outfit he had on during his conversation with that woman. And his hair indeed looked a little wet.

He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again when he realized that all this time he was holding something in his hand - the manifest. All of a sudden nothing made sense. His head felt heavy too, almost as if he was indeed a bit drunk. He looked back up again at Neal, who once again had that annoying grin on his face.

"Agent Larkin?" he finally said. "That actually has a nice ring to it. Agent Larkin, FBI!" he repeated, as if he was trying on the name.

"CIA," Mozzie corrected him absentmindedly.

"No kidding!" Neal's grin grew wider. "What's my first name? Maybe I could use it as an alias!"

Mozzie didn't respond; he just shot him a glare. He knew all too well what was going to happen now. Neal was on a roll, and it would be impossible to stop his teasing. Sure enough, he kept on laughing.

"Seriously, do I really give off a spy vibe? First Peter calls me James Bonds, and now you think I'm a CIA agent? Maybe I really should try to apply for a job there, although with my background..." he trailed off, and when he saw that his friend wasn't the least bit amused, changed to a more serious tone. "Come on, Mozzie, let's be real now. I couldn't even shoot Fowler when I thought he killed Kate; do you seriously think I could ever kill you?"

Mozzie didn't say a word as he was trying to stand up. He had problems with finding his balance, and fell back to the couch. Neal was immediately by his side, trying to help him. Mozzie shook off his hand, tried to stand up once again, this time with success, and started towards the door with an unsteady gait.

"Mozzie, wait!" Neal called after him. "We still need to talk about-"

"Not now," Mozzie cut him off, and slammed the door shut behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note: **So here it is. The (almost) final chapter of Mozzie. Hope you enjoyed it! Of course the only way for me to know about that is if you leave a review! ;)

Once again, many thanks to my incredibly awesome betas, Aspen Starlight, AwesomeQueenoftheLab and Tancaliel for all their help, as well as to anyone who favorited or put this story to story alert :) So without further ado:

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><p><em><strong>Chapter 3<strong>_

Mozzie didn't know what to think anymore. The image of Neal assembling the gun, no doubt to follow that woman's orders and kill him, was so vivid in his mind that if it really was nothing more than a nightmare it was the most realistic one he'd ever had. So realistic he could have sworn it really happened. But everything he saw in Neal's room after he woke up seemed to indicate that Neal's version of what happened was true. Not to mention that when he thought about it, he did have some vague memories of downing a couple of glasses of wine while going through the list, memorizing the items. Although the images were so fuzzy, they felt a lot more like a dream than his nightmare. He never had problems distinguishing between his dreams and reality before, so he was probably going to have to follow Neal's advice and go easier on the Chateau LeFranc.

The more he thought about the events with a somewhat-clear head, the more his theories about Neal being a government-employed assassin seemed absurd and ridiculous, even for him. After all, if anyone could smell a covert Fed from miles away, it was him, and there was no way Neal could have fooled him for all those years they had known each other.

There was only one thing that was completely clear to him, though, amidst all the contradicting thoughts currently in his head. As much as he hated to admit it to himself, Neal was right. Fencing the Degas so fast was a stupid idea. Now they had to get it back somehow before the Suit caught them red-handed. And there was no way he would try to sell anything else from the loot for a while, not even the pieces that weren't on the list. Who knows, the Suit might even have another page of the manifest hidden somewhere.

No, they were going to have to sit on the treasure for a while, until the Suit was less suspicious. Perhaps even until Neal's four years with the Feds were over. It would be hard, but worth it. So he was going to try to suck it up and be as cooperative with the Suit as possible, or at least as much as his morals would allow it.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he never noticed the black Crown Victoria parked close to June's house. As he stepped out of the house, the driver of the car speed-dialed a number on his cell phone.

"He just left the house," he said.

"Good. Keep monitoring him until we can be sure he's not going to cause any more trouble," the female voice on the other end spoke. "I know you're an expert in psychological conditioning, Colonel, but if for some reason it didn't work, as much as Agent Larkin opposes the idea, Mr. Haversham will have to disappear forever."

The man only grunted in agreement, snapped his phone shut, and turned his eyes to his dashboard. As Mozzie turned the corner, so did a little blinking light on the small built-in monitor. The newly installed tracking chip in the frame of Mozzie's glasses was working perfectly. He started his car's engine and slowly drove away.

**_FIN_**

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><p><strong>Stay tuned for a little "dvd extra" - a deleted scene ;)<strong>


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